


maybe

by dylanoshithead



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Blow Jobs, Like, M/M, Slow Build, also sex will be later, childhood friends sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dylanoshithead/pseuds/dylanoshithead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian met Mickey when he was ten. He's never quite gotten over it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Mickey, go sit on the bench!" His coach growled, shaking his head angrily. When the kid ignored him, he tried again. "Mickey _fucking_ Milkovich!" Finally, the dark haired boy looked at him, hands on his hips as if the coach had done something wrong. "Sit on the bench or go the fuck home!" Mickey wanted to fight, looked like he was ready for battle, but instead obeyed, sighing and walked over to the bench, slow enough to piss of the couch some more. That was always fun. 

Already on the bench was Ian Gallagher, watching the practice with wide eyes, knees pulled up to his chest. He was good at the game, but Coach Mavor could never deal with him. Said he was annoying and had a big mouth, like his sister. Fiona had given him hell about that, but refused to pull Ian out. Especially since the kid liked to be there.

“Why did you listen to him?” The redhead piped up, looking over at Mickey curiously, he scrunched his nose up. “You never listen.” It sounded like an insult, but it wasn’t. Just a fact of life; Mickey never listened and for Ian, it was inspiring. He liked that the Milkovich’s said ‘fuck you’ to anyone and everyone.

“Fuck off.” Ian smiled, biting his lip and hiding his face in his knees again. “What are you smiling at, red?” Mick snapped, glaring over at the boy with an anger that was more curious than actually angry.

Ian shook his head; there was no way he was going to sign up for abuse from Mickey. “Sorry.” He mumbled half-heartedly, staring at the game with the same small smile. Mickey hated that smile.

They watched the game in silence for a long time; Ian wanted to correct the coach, tell him that he didn’t need to touch the kids to correct them on how they’re standing. Especially since the notes he was giving weren’t even remotely about baseball, but he didn’t. Coach Mavor had made plenty of threats about how he’d kick him off the team if he didn’t keep his trap shut.

So, they sat.

Until, “Wanna get outta here?” Mickey grumbled, arms crossed over his chest, pouting. He didn’t do well with standing still. Always liked action better fucking sitting around and watching people shittier than him having all the fun. No fair.

Ian shrugged, his eyes wide. Maybe that was just the way his eyes were, but Mickey swore that he was always in a constant state of shock. It was annoying. “Yes or no, kid?” He asked gruffly, glaring at Ian.

“Yes.” The red head mumbled, smiling brightly. God, he was way too excited. Mickey got up and started walking away from the cages, away from the field. Coach Mavor wouldn’t notice they were gone unless he wanted to actually win again, and that didn’t seem like it was going to happen anytime soon. “Also, I’m ten.” Ian said quietly.

“So?”

“You called me kid.” Ian shrugged again. What the hell was with that? Indecisiveness was annoying.

“You  _are_  a kid.” Mickey pointed out instead.

Ian scoffed. “I’m only a year younger than you!”

The older boy just shrugged, smirking at him. “Don’t care.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Ian not asking where they were going. He didn’t really care, either. Mickey was  _cool_. And he wanted to hang out with Ian. It was a moment for him, okay? There had been other people on the bench, for instance, the cow that everyone just called Fat Albert, even though his real name was Edwin. And also there was Jane Lazlow, but no one wanted to hang out with her because she was a lesbian or something. Mickey had chosen Ian, because everyone else available was worse, sure, but he still chose Ian.

Yeah, totally a defining moment for the ten year old.

“We got beer and shit, if you want.” Mickey offered when they walked into the Milkovich home. Seriously. Ian Gallagher was in the Milkovich house and was being invited to drink something. Lip was never going to believe him. “I’m gonna play Mario, you do whatever the fuck gingers do.” Mickey shrugged, cracking open a beer and sitting on the ratty couch.

Ian echoed his movements, taking a large gulp from the Shiner. It was different than what Fiona got, stronger maybe? She usually settled for shitty wine or, on occasion, anything that could get them drunk. And for the most part, Fiona tried to keep it out of Ian’s hands. She kind of failed at that, though. Kind of a lot. “Where’d you guys get a Game Cube?” He asked, awed.

“Where do you think?” Mickey laughed. “We nicked it from some rich bastard. He thought our guns weren’t real, but…” It was the older boy’s turn to shrug, smiling proudly when he saw Ian’s shocked face. Sure, the Milkovich’s had a reputation, but nothing that Ian thought was  _real_.

“Cool.” He mumbled, instead. Because that’s what Mickey was, cool.

“I guess.”

They played for a couple hours, till the sun set and it was dark. In the back of his mind, Ian knew that Fiona would come looking for him. Or, at least, be out looking for him. No one in his family would ever even try to assume that he’d be at the Milkovich’s. It just didn’t make sense. As many Gallagher’s and Milkoviitch’s there were, paths didn’t get crossed very often. Except that one time when Fiona fucked Mickey’s cousin. But other than that, nothing.

At some point, Ian must’ve fallen asleep, because he was jolted awake by a loud scream, or a wail. Something like that.  

“Dad, get off of her!” He heard Mickey yell. Ian got to his feet, running into the other room to see Mandy Milovitch in Terry’s grasp. “Seriously, dad, stop!” The boy begged, hitting his dad with what looked like a crow bar. Mandy fell to the floor, scrambling away and towards Ian, who instinctively reached out and grabbed her, hugging her to his chest.

“Who the hell do you think you are, boy?” Terry hissed, grabbing Mickey by the throat and shoving him against the wall. Mickey looked smaller like that. Too small. Ian backed away a little, holding a sobbing Mandy in his arms, eyes wide and tear-filled. Lip would know what to do in this situation, Lip would help. But Ian wasn’t big enough to help. He couldn’t do anything. “You wanna give your dad orders, huh?” The man sneered in his sons face. Mickey wasn’t responding, just holding onto his dad’s wrists for dear life, face turning a bad shade of red.

Someone yelled something, called for Terry. Like it was normal. Said something about a job. Some guy downtown. Ian wasn’t listening. He was huddled in a corner, Mandy still clinging to him. She didn’t really know him. They were in the same class, but Ian knew that Mandy didn’t know who he was. He held onto her though, tried to whisper nice things. Like how everything would be okay. But he didn’t know if it would be, because the toughest guy he’d ever known was sitting on the ground, coughing so hard Ian was afraid he might bleed.

When Mickey finally looked over at Mandy, he was different. He didn’t look so tough, he looked tired. “…You cool?” He rasped. Ian didn’t need to ask to know that Mickey was pretending Ian wasn’t there. It was obvious.

Mandy sniffed, wiping her face and looking up at her older brother. Ian could see how swollen her face was now. It made his heart clench with worry. “Yeah, I’m cool.” She mumbled back. They both sat there for a moment before getting up and tidying up the house as much as it could be tidied.

Mickey didn’t look at Ian when Ian helped clean, he didn’t look at him when Ian handed him a beer. Mickey didn’t even look at him when Ian asked if he was okay.

Finally, Mandy took Ian’s hand and led him to the door. “…Thanks, Gallagher.” She said quietly, smiling up at him like this was  _normal_. Like something like this was okay. “See ya ‘round?” Mandy didn’t wait for Ian’s answer before closing the door on him.

When Ian was ten, the Milkovich’s were  _cool_.


	2. shit, gallagher

Ian Gallagher wasn’t really the same after he came home at three in the morning when he was ten.

Lip noticed, of course he did, but he never asked. It couldn’t have been much worse than what the rest of them had gone through. Monica, Frank…

Ian was fucked up way before he left the womb, much less when he was a ten year old. Over the years, though, Lip picked up on a few things.

Once, when Ian was twelve, Fiona came home with a story about how Mandy Milkovich had shoved her at the Kash and Grab. Seriously, what kind of family were they? So rude.  Fiona had just been standing there and the girl shoved passed her without so much as an apology.  Ian tensed up when Mandy’s name was mentioned, got this look on his face that was a lot like worry and Lip didn’t get it. It was like he was ready for battle or some shit. And yeah, Fiona didn’t have any place calling the Milkovitch’s rude when they were the Gallaghers, but still. Loyalty, Ian.

Another time, when Ian was in eighth grade, he got suspended for fighting someone. Ricky Lopez. The day after Lip came home telling everyone about how Ricky had shared pictures of Mandy Milkovich practically naked to anyone who would see. And had Lip looked? Of course he did. So, the next day when Ian came home with a broken nose and a pissed off expression, Lip figured it must be because he liked Mandy.

Then Ian got to high school and they all ate lunch together. Lip and Ian, sometimes they hung out with this blonde chic named Karen who totally wanted Lip but just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. And Ian would stare across the cafeteria at the table where Mickey and Mandy sat with the rest of their siblings, laughing and chucking food at one another. A crush on Mandy, Lip was sure of it.

And then he wasn’t so sure.  

“…Look, you bought the shit off me, didn’t you?” Ian heard as he rounded the corner, the familiar voice sending a shock down his spine. “You gotta pay me.” He watched the scene unfold; Mickey scaring some poor freshman into giving him money. It had happened a million times before. Ian would know, Ian _saw._

And fuck you if you think Mickey didn’t notice.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Mickey grumbled when the kid handed over the money. He started counting the bills, ignoring the obvious presence of the other boy. As always.

“…Why didn’t you hit him?” Ian spoke up. For the first time in years. Mickey got the vague sense of déjà vu. That question sounded familiar. Like someone a long time ago had asked him the same sorta thing.

“You always gonna be pissing around like that?” Mickey snapped, looking up and meeting Ian’s gaze. It relaxed them both more than either would ever fucking admit. They had looked at each other plenty over the years, but it was different when they were caught looking. It was nice. “Seriously, it’s fucking annoying.” He growled, leaning against the lockers as he counted.

Ian moved closer, leaning his shoulder against the lockers, watching him carefully. “You got a light?” He asked vaguely. Just to prolong the conversation. To stay close to Mickey, for just a little longer.

Mickey looked up at him, raising his eyebrows. “What, you gonna smoke in the hallway?” He asked sharply. “Ballsy, firecrotch.” He smirked, tossing the lighter to Ian.

“Was gonna go to the bathrooms, but whatever.” Ian smirked, starting down the hall.

And, well, he had Mickey’s lighter.

So of course Mick had to follow.

“…You remember me?” Ian asked after a while, taking a drag from his cigarette before handing it over to Mickey. They were sitting on the sinks, window open. Mickey had some weird trick he’d done with the door that kept it closed and Ian had hung an ‘out of order’ sign on it.

Mickey shrugged. “Sure. You were on my little league team.”

“Ah.” Ian mumbled, looking down where their knees almost touch, very nearly bumped together. “Right.” He sighed instead.

Mickey was silent for a long moment. He gave no hint at what he was thinking and it drove Ian mad. For years he had watch the Milkovich’s. For years he tried to figure out what made them tick. And he still failed. All he knew was that he liked the way they smiled when they were having a good day. A smile that reached their eyes and laughs that erupted out of them like –

“You don’t know shit about us.”

“I know.”

“You was there one time, Gallagher. You don’t know shit.”

“I know.” Ian repeated quietly.

“So how about you stop with the obsession before I punch you in the dick?” Mickey smirked, raising an eyebrow at Ian, who just shrugged and smirked back.

That was new; no one ever returned Mickey’s bullshit. No one had the balls.

Except for Ian.

“You wanna touch my dick?” He asked, cheeks dimpling.

And that made Mickey stop and stare at Ian, meet his eyes and calm them both. He did. He so did. Ian could tell; he probably had the same look on his face. Instead of admitting it, though, Mickey snorted. “Fuck off, faggot.” The older boy got up and headed for the door. “Catch ya later kid.” He called after him, middle finger saluting Ian.

“Catch ya later, faggot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not sure if I like this story. I figured I'd post the next chapter because I had it, but my writing isn't it's best. It's super impersonal and I'm just not a fan of how it's going. I know several people requested I continue, but I think we'd all agree that starting something new would be better. 
> 
> Also, yuck! Homophobic language, right? 
> 
> But it's very Shameless, I think. 
> 
> Let me know in the comments if you have any ideas that you want to be made into fics or just shoot me a message at dylanoshithead on Tumblr. 
> 
> Toodles, guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, so I hope you guys like this. I think I'll continue it. Also, if you wanna find me on twitter or tumblr, my username is weirdusernaming.


End file.
